


Your lips say nothing, but your shoulders shrug, Baby

by kumquatix



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: D/s, Dirty Talk, Fully Clothed/naked, Genital Torture, M/M, SSC, kink_bingo, light humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-03
Updated: 2011-06-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 02:21:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kumquatix/pseuds/kumquatix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney makes good use of the talks about fantasies they've had, and whips John's dick and balls hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your lips say nothing, but your shoulders shrug, Baby

"You wanted pain today, right?" Rodney asked.

John tilted his head, and shrugged. It was as enthusiastic agreement as he ever got out of him, while they weren't actually playing. Sometimes Rodney insisted on having serious talks about fantasies and boundaries with him just for the sadistic thrill of it, not that he'd ever admit that.

The way it worked was Rodney pried a fantasy out of John, which was a bit like pulling teeth, with all the squirming and sweating and scrunched face and avoidant eyes. Sometimes John even blushed or teared up, and it was a struggle for him not to grab John's hair and grind his face into his crotch. But he didn't, because Serious Talks were not ever part of a scene.

Then Rodney came up with a matching fantasy, which didn't as far as he knew cross any of John's hard limits. Then John invariably said yes in his own special way, and Rodney asked him 50 billion times he if was sure. Really _sure_ , sure. Or he had, until the first time John had safeworded. Now that he trusted John more, he mostly managed to only ask once or twice.

"Okay," Rodney said. "This is the plan. I'm going to whip your dick."

John's eyelids dipped slowly, in a sketch of a nod. Rodney could tell he was looking forward to playing, from the way he stood completely still, as if concentrating on listening to beautiful music coming from far away.

"But to make it more interesting, I'm going to suck you off first, and then beat your still sensitive dick and balls until they try to get away by crawling inside your body." Rodney's voice shook, and his mouth went cottony and thick, but he enunciated every word as clearly as he could for John.

He must have understood him, because his eyes went round with shock, and his jaw slackened slightly. The hairs stood up on his bare arms. He didn't say a word.

Rodney felt queasy and shivery just saying it. Hot all over. It was going to hurt so _bad_. He had accidentally whipped himself in the face really hard with a thin, flexible plastic tube he was going to use to tie up some water conduits with, and it had stung so much he hadn't felt it at all at first, and then it had burned like fire, and his eye had watered for minutes.

But it hadn't damaged his skin, other than leaving a faint red line, which had disappeared when he woke up next morning. He'd immediately imagined using it to inflict pain on John - it was going to be beautiful.

"You won't be insulated by your arousal. No little happy endorphins whizzing around to shield you. It's going to be pure, sharp pain until you can't take it anymore. And no orgasm to look forward to afterwards," Rodney said menacingly, walking slowly towards John. He got right up in his face, feeling the heat and tension of John's body buzzing over him like a powerful electrical field.

John swallowed. He was trembling now too.

Rodney wanted to tell him they could do something else, to offer him a way out. His dick was rock hard, and he wanted this, he wanted to do this to John, and to see John like that, but he also wanted to protect John from it. Tell him "No, don't let me do this to you!" But for once he managed to bite it back. John had wanted to try heavier genital torture for a while, and Rodney could trust him to say the word if he didn't want it.

"Take off your clothes, fold them, and pile them over there," Rodney pointed to the floor in the corner of the room. One of his own little flourishes. Making John do pointless rituals, and putting something he wore on his body outside of scenes on the floor before he allowed him to get to the "good" stuff made him a bit giddy. He always did it without protest, but Rodney could tell it was only to please him. As it should be.

"Sit in the chair, legs spread," he ordered when John had obeyed.

At first he had tried sprinkling in praise and encouragements, whenever John submitted gracefully, but it had only annoyed him. Sometimes it even turned him off. So now Rodney rewarded John making it good for Rodney by making it good for him; for example, by not pausing right now to suggest a nice, relaxing bubble bath instead of genital whipping.

John sat, and Rodney went and got the plastic tube out of his toy box. John stared at it.

"I want my hands cuffed behind my back," he said.

If it had been Rodney, he would have wanted both of his hands covering his jewels. And to be curled into a fetal ball. And to be wearing a titanium cod piece. He got the padded cuffs out for John.

John's arms were wet with perspiration when Rodney gently drew them behind the chair back and cuffed them, and it looked like he was deliberately fighting not to tense or curl in on himself. Rodney kept his hand lying warmly and reassuringly on John's naked back, as he leaned over and snagged a pillow, then trailed his fingers lightly over his skin as he walked around him and dropped the pillow on the floor in front of him.

He looked a bit wild eyed. Rodney knelt down and put a hand on each of his knees, but he didn't push.

"Knees apart," he ordered, and John spread them without hesitation. It wasn't like him to have closed them, but considering what he was in for, Rodney wasn't going to suggest a punishment.

"I'm going to give you the sweetest, slowest blow job you've ever had," he said, caressing the grooves along John's knee caps with his thumbs. "Try to enjoy it, because as soon as you shoot, you will feel nothing but pain. The burn won't fade for hours. You can try to draw it out, but the longer you put off coming, the more sensitized you'll be."

John's erection was already bright red, and so hard it was standing almost straight up. Rodney puffed his breath on it as he spoke. And then he had to swallow because his mouth was watering too much. John's crotch smelled deliciously of sex.

He licked his lips, and kissed John's cock head, and John's stomach muscles clamped up, his thighs going rock hard under Rodney's hands, as he came.

Rodney's arousal swelled up like a huge wave making him dizzy and his eyesight go fuzzy, and he had to lean his throbbing head against John's hip for a while, before he could stand up.

Somehow he held back his orgasm, which was good. He wanted to enjoy every moment of this to the max. The plastic tube slid in his slick grip, and he wound it around his hand a few times. John was watching avidly, and shivering.

Rodney giggled. "Poor John. You didn't even get to enjoy a blow job first!"

John shook his head mutely, still staring at the whip in Rodney's hand. This was the most painful thing Rodney was ever going to have done to John, and he'd accidentally made it even more sadistic by talking dirty too much, and John still wanted it. Rodney felt so much giddy, bubbly happiness that he started laughing.

John's cock was still erect, making itself the perfect target, and so much easier to swing at than Rodney's own inner thighs when he'd practiced yesterday. And much more fun too.

He swung hard and fast, and hit him on a diagonal across the thickest part. John squeaked, and jerked forward against his restrained arms, but he tucked his ankles behind the chair legs to keep his legs open.

Rodney kept up a good rhythm, a large swing to keep the tube from bending or tangling, and a regular, not too slow pace, to help John get into it. His squeaks turned into a low, keening moan, punctuated by harsh grunts, and he'd squinched up his face and tucked his chin into his chest. Rodney could see his lashes growing wet.

He varied where he hit, trying to stripe John's cock like a barber's pole while he still had some firmness left, and then moving onto his shrinking balls. At first his shoulder had felt sore at the repetitive motion, but seeing John's wilting and reddening genitals, and the shock going through his body at every strike, the way he hung forward from his bound hands, and still kept his knees apart, and didn't say a word of protest, made him float.

He was no longer giggly, the joy was too big for that. He wanted to whip John all over, to kiss him all over, to take him up inside of him and never let him go. He hadn't known John had this much to give him.

He wasn't keeping count, instead he concentrated on John's reactions. John's breathing had changed from lamaze-y to regular rapid breathing, and his face had smoothed out. His keening had morphed into an absorbed humming, and he was rocking ever so slightly back and forth in time with Rodney's lashings.

Rodney gentled his strikes, swinging shorter and slower arcs in the same rhythm, until the tube was limply whapping against John's dick and balls so softly he probably could barely feel it. John was still rocking. His humming grew louder, almost turning into a "Yummmm!" when Rodney petted him, and his eyes were rolled back in his head, when Rodney lifted one of his lids to check.

He followed docilely to the bed, and lay there humming and smiling and looking far away, while Rodney wiped him down with a warm damp towel and tucked him in.

*

"How are you feeling?" Rodney asked.

John winced, and grinned. "I feel awesome. And my cock and balls hurt like hell. You really went to town on me."

Rodney lay next to John on top of the covers, fully clothed. He didn't know how long it had taken John to come back, but he had been riveted watching the process. He wanted to do this again, soon.

John lay there, staring back at Rodney, and smiling at him. His eyes were warm, and crinkled around the corners.

"I think I'll have to wear a jock strap to be able to walk," he said jokingly, but he probably meant it too. Rodney saw from the way the blanket fell over him that he was cradling his crotch in one hand.

"I have some soothing lotion. You want?"

"Yeah."

Rodney let John put it on himself, tensing and fretting over all the wincing he was doing.

"Was it worth it?" he blurted out anxiously, then bit his lip. He'd promised himself not to second guess John's limits so much.

John looked up sharply.

"It was for me," he said. He looked over Rodney's rumpled and sweaty clothes, and his gaze lingered on Rodney's crotch. "Did you come?"

Rodney looked down at himself dumbly. Did he come? He didn't have a damp spot, and didn't feel any adhesive chafing from cum filled underwear.

"No. I guess I forgot," he said, surprised.

John's face fell comically, looking so droopy Rodney could have sworn even his ears hung. Rodney had to laugh.

"Don't look so disappointed, John. Whipping you turned me on so much it was transcendental." He waved his hands around his head. "I don't mean in an ascending like an Ancient way! I mean in a loved it so much I forgot about my arousal way."

John looked happy. His eyebrows, and chin and ears came up, and even his hair was perkier.

"I want to do it again!" Rodney said. "I mean, when you're recovered, and we have a Sunday."

John shrugged.


End file.
